RIDE OR DIE | DARYL DIXON

dream

"YOU WANT ME TO take it easy on you, or are you up for a challenge?" Wells asked her as she re-did her braid.

She wrapped the elastic tightly around the end of her braid, almost as tight as the knot in her stomach. She tried to postpone asking him to help her train and take her mind off of things, but she let the word slip to Daryl about what Morgan suggested, and he wouldn't stop urging her to do it. She was a nervous wreck when she asked him, and even worse when he agreed to do it right then and there. He gave her five minutes to change into something more movement friendly, and now, here they are. 

She tossed her braid behind her back. "Let's start in the middle. Not too easy, not too hard. I-"

In one single motion, Wells knocked her leg from under her with his own and sent her falling to the ground. She only had time to react to the impact, but she let out a heavy breath when she was rested against the grass gently. Not only had he managed to knock her down that quickly, but he also caught her before she could land too harshly. 

"What the hell?" She muttered, smacking at his hand that still cupped the back of her head. 

A sly grin came across his face as he let her go and walked backwards. "That's rule one- don't get distracted."

"Wasn't aware we were even starting." She stood up and shook out her hands. "And I thought we were using sticks."

He shook his head. "Sticks aren't really my forte."

She raised an eyebrow. "Then why did Morgan-"

"Because hand-to-hand training is just as important, if not more important than beating someone down with a damn stick." He said with a laugh. "You may not always have a piece of wood on you to defend yourself with, but, you know what you always will have?"

She crossed her arms, waiting for him to say something, but realized it wasn't a rhetorical. 

"Hands." She grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"Damn right." He stepped back up to her. "We'll be doing the basics today, and probably for a while before we move on to actual weapons."

She nodded and watched him carefully, copying the small and simple stretches he demonstrated.

"So, what, you were some kind of self defense coach before all this?" She asked as she deepened the stretch in her arm, holding it firmly across her chest.

He shrugged, switching his arms. "Something like that."

She switched her arms too with a look of curiosity on her face.

He took notice of it and further explained. "I volunteered at a shelter for those who fell victim to domestic violence. Woman and children came in every day looking for a place to stay while they figured things out. They were iffy about having a man volunteering there, but they liked what I offered. Two days a week I would hold self defense lessons for whoever resided at the shelter in the small recreation room they had. It started with a few women who'd show up just once and never come back... but then it turned into something bigger. The women came to each lesson for multiple weeks in a row, and even started to bring their children. They wanted to learn because they partially blamed themselves for what happened. If their child got hurt, it was their fault because they couldn't defend them." 

He shook his head as he dropped his arms and brought up his foot, bending his knee and holding it up behind him. "I don't think they really believed that. Whatever shit-bucket of a home they came from taught them that. Taught them that they get no more than what they deserve."

Willow frowned and wobbled on one foot. "You sound very... compassionate about it."

She caught a glimpse of his ghostly eye, a hint of anger behind it.